See the Sun
by Snatching At Dreams
Summary: sometimes you can't make it on your own
1. I'm coming round

_I'm comin' 'round to open the blinds  
You can't hide here any longer  
My God you need to rinse those puffy eyes  
You can't last here any longer_

Ginny slowly opened the door of the flat. It was completely dark inside.

'_Lumos,_' she muttered, closing the door behind her.

Pointing her wand into the gloom, Ginny whispered '_Homenum revelio_.' At once she felt a tingling sensation in her fingers. Harry, or whatever he had become, was at home.

It had been three months since the battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Voldemort, and while most people were re-building their lives and moving on, Harry Potter had not. He had been at Hogwarts for the first couple of days, and attended all the funerals, but after that he had faded away, and few people knew where he was. The last time Ginny had seen Harry had been at the burrow a month ago, and he had looked pale, untidy, and sick. As her mother had fussed over Harry and piled huge helpings of food onto his plate, Ginny had watched silently from the corner of the room. It was as though something had died within Harry, leaving a shell, a fragment of his former self. And then he had left, halfway through the meal, mumbling something about going to see Teddy, and Ginny had neither seen nor heard from him since then.

3 days ago, out of the blue, Hermione had arrived at the burrow and asked to see her.

'If you can't help him out of this mess I don't think anyone can.' Hermione had said, her eyes pleading.

So Ginny had agreed. Hermione had told her the address of Harry's London flat and instructions on how to get in.

"He still loves you, you know.' Hermione had said quietly as Ginny walked out the door. 'You'll just have to help him see it again.'

Ginny walked down the corridor, and opened a door to the left which Hermione had said led to the lounge room. It was completely silent inside, apart from the sound of her own breathing.

Moving her wand around, she spotted curtains at the other end of the room. 'Let's get some light in here,' She muttered.

Striding over to them, Ginny yanked the curtains apart. Light flooded the room, and Ginny turned around, marvelling at the way the room looked much bigger now that some light had been let in.

She looked down at the floor, and was glad her mother wasn't here to see the mess. There was rubbish everywhere, dishes with cultivations of mould scattered around on the coffee table and the floor in the immediate vicinity of the couch. She shook her head sadly as the toilet flushed down the hallway, and somebody that vaguely resembled Harry came back into the sitting room. Spotting Ginny, he stopped dead, staring at her.

Ginny couldn't do anything but stare back.

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	2. Come on, take my hand

**yeah, second chapter!**

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**oh, and in case you hadn't realised, Im not J.K Rowling. im just a year 11 student who lives Down Under and has an unhealthy obsession with scrabble.  
**

_Come on take my hand  
We're going for a walk, I know you can  
You can wear anything as long as it's not black  
Please don't mourn forever  
It won't bring him back _

George lay on his bed, staring at the roof. He didn't feel like doing anything else.

He felt incomplete, unbalanced, as though one half of him had been ripped away.

There didn't seem to be any point doing anything anymore. Not without Fred. They had done everything together; they had been each other's shadows. George couldn't remember doing anything without Fred.

And even if he did get out and do something, he would never be looked at the same way. He could never be just George. People would think of Fred when they saw and talked to him.

So for the past four months, he had just lain here, staring at the roof, doing nothing.

George didn't hear the front door bell ring or the sound of voices in the kitchen. He only became aware that there was a visitor at the Burrow when there was a sharp knock on his bedroom door.

'Oi George, its Angelina. I swear if you don't open this door in the next five seconds I will blast it open and personally disembowel you.'

George did not move, instead, he pulled the covers further up over his head.

There was a loud blasting sound and Angelina's voice very close to his bed. 'You realise you're acting like a five year old, right?'

George responded by humphing and rolling over the face the wall.

He was disrupted from his sulking when Angelina ripped the covers off his bed and promptly threw them out the window.

'We're going for a walk.' She said simply. 'And I don't care what you wear, as long as it's not black.' And with that, she walked out of his bedroom.

15 minutes later she was back again.

'George, please.'

He was so startled by the seriousness in her voice that he sat up and faced her.

'Come for a walk. It will help. You don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to.' She extended a hand. George took it and she pulled him up off the bed.

'This, and this.' She said, pulling out a white t-shirt and dark green shorts. 'I don't know where your underwear drawer is, and I think that's kind of invading your privacy a bit, so I'll let you pick your own.'

George slowly pulled on the clothes Angelina had picked for him. He didn't feel at all like going for a walk, or actually leaving his room, for that matter, but this was Angelina, and if he didn't do what she said... well, he much preferred having all four limbs fully functional.

She was waiting on the landing for him, a stack of toast in her hand.

'I kinda forgot to have breakfast this morning,' she said sheepishly.

George shrugged and they set off down the stairs. There was no-one in the lounge room or the kitchen; George supposed the rest of his family had gone out.

They had just passed through the garden gate when Angelina turned to face him, holding out her hand.

'Do you trust me?'

He took her hand, and they spun into darkness.


	3. And you probably don't want to

_And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day  
Well I promise you you'll see the sun again  
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness  
And I promise you you'll see the sun again_

After Ginny had shoved Harry towards the bathroom with a clean towel and instructions not to drown himself, she had set to work on cleaning the apartment. Magic certainly had its upsides when it came to domestic chores: Ginny managed to clean the living room, kitchen, and the hallway in half an hour.

Ginny was making herself a cup of tea when Harry came downstairs. He was wearing a dark green top and jeans, and, had he not looked so sick, Ginny would have thought he looked rather attractive.

'Sorry about all the mess.' Harry murmured.

Ginny eyed him over her cup. 'When was the last time you ate, Harry?'

Harry muttered something inaudible.

'Right then,' Ginny replied, as if she had understood Harry perfectly. 'Toast?'

Harry watched as Ginny made some toast in his muggle toaster. Years of having to put up with a muggle gadget obsessed father paid off sometimes.

'Gin, I'm really sorry about this.' Harry said quietly.

Ginny looked over at Harry, wondering what he meant by that. But before she could say anything, he burst into speech.

'I didn't think I would turn out like this, really. I thought it would be better, now that Voldemort had gone, and the Ministry was ok. But I keep going back. In my dreams, in my thoughts... I can't get them out of my head. Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Colin... Everybody! I don't feel like I deserve all the praise, when I let them die! It's my entire fault that they're dead!'

Harry did not cry, but Ginny knew that had he had any tears left, he would have. A new emotion washed over her: guilt. How long had Harry sat in this flat, without hope, without comfort, without _her_?

'I thought about visiting you, properly, not just visiting the Burrow,' Harry said suddenly. 'But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Like a lot of things I mean to do. I just end up at Andromeda's house, with Teddy. It seems kind of strange, but he reminds me why I'm here. I'm not entirely sure why, but he just does. '

The toast popped, but both Ginny and Harry ignored it. Harry spoke again.

'Thanks for coming today, Gin. It means a lot to me. _You _mean a lot to me, but you probably don't think the same way anymore, with the war and...'

He didn't get to finish his sentence: Ginny had pulled him into a tight hug

'Harry James Potter, you complete idiot.' She murmured against his t-shirt. 'You will _always _mean a lot to me.' she looked up into his green eyes. 'Did you really think otherwise?'

Harry managed a weak smile, but that was all Ginny needed.

'Promise me, something, ok? Promise me that you'll get better. That you'll smile again.' She breathed. 'I need to see you smile again.'

She stared at him intently, waiting for a response. After a long silence, Harry replied.

'I promise.'

Ginny hugged him tightly. 'Good. Now, do you mind having cold toast or should I make another batch?'


End file.
